The Piece Left Behind
by aerialla1
Summary: Dean carries the pieces left behind of all those he has lost. None are more important that one old ratty coat.


**The Piece Left Behind**

Play list - The Promise by Tracy Chapman

It was always there - rumpled, a little too big, and still carrying stains - even after washing. On the night he stood coated in ectoplasm and had nothing else, it was either put it on, or freeze in high Rocky Mountain air. That night, even through fabric softener and detergent, his chest pulled at the lingering scent of iron mixed with amber, lavender and an undertone of incense.

Folded and crumpled, it made a decent pillow as he lies on top of the Impala and stared into indigo blue sky that stretched forever in a million stars and unimaginable galaxies. Sam slept below, unaware of choked prayers and tears falling for the best friend and brother whose ass wasn't here for kicking. Every wish on every falling star was a prayer to a nonexistent God, who turned his back on them - again. Amber and lavender wafted on warm breeze mixing with salty rolls of anguish and loss. It was the first night he had prayed - prayed, in more time than he could remember.

Rain rolled off it on highway 53, just outside Gainesville, GA when his baby blew a belt after fighting a Windigo in the Chattahoochee-Oconee National Forest. It flapped around his knees, but kept him dry even as an errant trucker splashed a cascade of pothole sludge over him like a tidal wave. Warm soothing scent was all that kept him from pulling his gun and putting a hole in the asshole trucker's melon.

From the Carolinas and up the eastern seaboard it remained rolled, shoved in the deepest corner of his worn black duffel bag. On top of it lay the Colt and together they rode the dark through hard-fought battles, won and lost. Each was a testament of betrayal, comradery, and carried the scars of heaven and hell. Everything pulled from the bag cast a waft of smell. That permeating incense more than once made his jaw clench, until finally he bought a new one and threw the old in the trunk.

The night he slept curled into it was the after Bobby's house burned to the ground. There was nothing else and it was necessity. Bobby and Sam both scoffed at him draping it over his head to catch precious few z's, but said not a word. Its sight was every bit as painful for them, though neither could smell the scent that cradled him in just enough rest to keep him from cracking like a lunatic.

It provided warmth and soothing comfort as Bobby battled the bullet to his brain. Soaking up his fervent prayers, and curses as his heart battled with losing the only real father he'd ever known. His prayers went unanswered as he mourned another of his family dying to the monsters that took everything away.

He would never tell anyone that he put it on and curled up into the back of the Impala as his heart broke with Bobby's flask clutched in his hand, close to his heart. In the moments that he wondered if putting a bullet in his own brain would ease the suffering, the warmth of amber enveloped him as lavender assuaged in a perfume that soothed the ache - if only for a little while. He thought of his family - his mother, father, Bobby, and Cas - now all gone, leaving him to fight. It was a never-ending battle against a brother going insane and monsters they had no hope or prayer of defeating. Like the car, Sammy, and Bobby's flask, this shroud of bloodstained cotton was the last piece of one of his family. Hell, he even had a jar of Gabriel's wing ash - though he kept those more for Cas than himself. Around the jar was one of Cassie's hair ribbons, he'd found it long after their parting, but needed the memory that even if badly he could still love. In the glove compartment was a baseball card with a six-year-old Ben's picture, posing and smiling with brand new glove in hand. Under it was a picture of him and Lisa in the kitchen, arms locked around each other and her head on his shoulder.

Now standing in front of the man who was savior, brother, friend and betrayer, the memories ricocheted inside his brain. With shaking hands and a gut churning so hard he was ready to puke, Dean handed one of his most precious mementos back to the man it belonged to. This man, Emmanuel, was not Cas. He sent a silent prayer anyway. For Sammy, he would trust the trench coat would help Cas find his way home, as it had him over the past months. Besides, the coat was as much a part of Cas as his wings, or his grace. To see him without it was wrong.

Fifteen minutes later he watched one brother exchange himself for the other. Cas' betrayal still burned raw, just as Sam's had with Ruby. Still, family was family and he would find a way to bring Cas back for good. He hoped the miracle would come before Lucifer turned Cas' mind to pudding. Sure, he had Cas back -, but there was nothing to comfort him in the night. Now, once again as he lies under the supreme sky of diamonds and indigo he prayed that Cas would be strong and that they would be able to stop Leviathan in time.

Prayers and rambling words to an absent Holy Father were still at the forefront of his mind and tongue as a cocoon of musky warm amber and soothing earthy lavender permeated his nose. The scent filled his lungs sending him into a place of rest and peace and just as he drifted deeper feeling loving, fatherly arms surrounded him, rocking him and protecting him throughout the night.


End file.
